Ghana: Signs

These signs pretty much speak for themselves. I'll just add that this phenomenon was probably the best unexpected feature of my trip to Ghana - it may have been unbearably sweaty, humid, and hot at times, but these signs never failed to put a smile on my face.

Vote for your favorite!

2-Pac. Jesus. Car decorations. More in common than you might think:


No laughing matter:


Bordering on creepy:


Late realization that it's better to sell more than one phone:


Advertising lesser-known skills of the almighty:


I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you brought her too:


Pretty high service promise:


If you haven't seen enough:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=131004&id=718810927&l=b922e19f74

Ghana: Top Ten

It might sound strange, but my fascination with Ghana started with a 5th grade Cub Scout project. My den (Indian Nations Council) introduced us to a pen pal organization and we were assigned addresses to write to. The project turned into a kind of competition to see who could get the most number of people to write back, and at one point I was writing to 25 pen pals from all over the world. My first one, however, was from Sunyani, Ghana. That pen pal relationship lasted for over a decade, and as a kid I remember getting cuts of kente cloth, leather goods, and cedi bank notes in the mail. Ghana always seemed like an impossible place to get to, and even from within Africa it took a fair bit of planning. But it was worth it.

Without any more babble, my top ten from Ghana:

1. CAPE COAST CASTLE
Built by the Swedes (who knew the Swedes were building castles in Africa???) and later occupied by the British, the castle’s started as a post in the gold trade but became a symbol of the slave trade. The dungeons where slaves were kept prior to leaving the “door of no return” left me speechless. President Obama visited here last month – many of the slaves that came through this castle went to the United States.



2. ELMINA - CASTLE AND POSUBAN SHRINES
The castle in Elmina (20km down the road) is the oldest European-built structure in sub-Saharan Africa still standing. Started by the Portuguese and then occupied by the Dutch I thought it was even more interesting than Cape Coast Castle. The Posuban Shrines (http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/09/travel/09ghana.html?_r=1) and the Dutch cemetery were also worth visits. Don’t believe the neighborhood kids when they try to charge you to take pictures!

Not your everyday shrine:


3. TRO-TROS
This is definitely not the most comfortable way to get around, but absolutely the cheapest. I went 40km for about 75 cents. You have to wait for the vans to fill up before they leave, but depending on the route this usually doesn’t take long. The commercial activity surrounding the vans while you wait is excellent entertainment anyway. Tro-tros have their own slogans too – the best I saw was “If you don’t get into heaven, don’t blame Jesus.”

Pick your seat strategically:


Yogurt vendor while waiting for a ride to Kumasi:



4. KUMASI BUS STATION
I arrived at the chaotic scene at dusk and a Ghanaian woman that had been on my tro-tro from Cape Coast for the previous 4 hours took me by the hand and led me through the maze. She said that people related to the chiefs would try to steal me. I later realized she probably meant steal “from me”, but I couldn’t get the thought of being kidnapped out of my mind. I wasn’t scared but took her advice and followed her to a safer place to get a taxi to my hotel. Only to find out that we had basically walked right past it and that I didn’t need a taxi anyway…

Please don't steal me:


5. KUMASI MARKET FIRE
The 10-acre market in Kumasi is theoretically west-Africa’s largest. I had reserved an entire morning to explore it, only to have selected the day that a big chunk of it burned down. Instead of browsing I started taking pictures of the aftermath. What struck me was how nonchalant most people were about the tragedy. Many people had come to see what happened and carried on laughing and joking like they were going to see a soccer game or something, others were going about their business trying to sell whatever they could in the streets in the true market spirit…





6. SUNYANI SNAILS
The lady at the market stall in Sunyani was laughing at me, but I just couldn’t believe the size of the snails she was selling. They were literally the size of my hand. She offered to cook one for me if I bought it, but somehow the thought of a snail that size just wasn’t appetizing. Cute little escargot in garlic butter is one thing, but that satisfying squishy sensation didn’t seem so appetizing writ large. They were fun to look at though…

You'd need a special escargot pan to cook these suckers:


7. PROJECT "AFRICAN SHIRT"
I decided I was going to buy fabric and have a local tailor make some African shirts for me. The trip to the market was fun in itself, and I picked out three patterns (I can’t trust my taste so I was trying to hedge my bets). I had asked a local what the price for fabric was so I knew if I was getting ripped off, and remarkably nobody tried to. The price to sew a shirt was cheap enough, so instead of picking one piece of fabric I had the tailor make shirts with all three designs I had bought. The grand total for the fabric and tailoring for all three shirts: $18. I was kicking myself afterwards that I didn’t buy some plain blue cloth to make more shirts – the style is very comfortable in the humid climate. Something to keep in mind for the next visit.

8. NOVELTY COFFINS
This is sort of in the “you have to see it to believe it” file, but I really liked the spirit of the novelty coffin shops. Film projectors, Mercedes-Benzes, airplanes, chili peppers, elephants, crabs, soda cans, wrenches – you name it. I left thinking that being buried in a novelty coffin is sort of like getting in one last laugh at death, and I have to say I like the idea. I’m not sure it will convince me to change my preference for cremation, but it definitely had me thinking. It’s about $700 for each hand-carved and painted coffin, but you have to figure out the shipping. Apparently that doesn’t stop some people - the shop owner I talked to said he gets orders from the US all the time.







9. KAKUM NATIONAL PARK
I was expecting this to be kind of gimmicky, but actually it was pretty cool. I was stuck between a couple from Holland and an evangelical family from the US that had moved to Ghana. The patriarch from the latter group tried to chat me up and I ran away as quickly and tactfully as possible. My escape allowed me to focus on the perspective the canopy walk offers. It was obvious a lot of the surrounding forest had been cut down, but what was left was still impressive.

Hang on!


10. SIGNS
One thing that struck me the most about Ghana was its entrepreneurial spirit. There are lots of small shops each with their own personality that speaks to a savvy marketing sense. Religious themes were the most common, often with humorous results. I'll post separately, because there are just too many to choose from and this is already a long post...

Click here for more photos:
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Ghana: Getting There

One of the best parts about the trip to Ghana this past May was just getting there. I was flying on points, and was required to have a nearly 24 hour layover in Johannesburg. For those of you looking at a map, you’ve realized this makes no sense. It’s like flying from Dallas to Miami to get to Seattle. But that’s how the African infrastructure works – there aren’t any direct flights between Angola and Ghana, and it makes more sense to connect in Johannesburg than, say, London, which would have been the other option (and with only two flights a week to most European capitals, not a very convenient one).

It turns out the adventure started as soon as I got to the Luanda airport, when I had one of three possible departing times to consider for my flight. My printed reservation had one time, the public information system at the airport had another, and my printed boarding pass had a third, representing a possible departing time spread of 3 hours. On a previous trip to Johannesburg the original reservation document was correct and the other two were wrong (including the boarding pass). This time it turned out the boarding pass was correct. I try to get to the airport ridiculously early (I recommend 5 hours ahead of time, because of this and other unpredictable nonsense), so I was never really worried, but anyone uncomfortable with uncertainty would probably have had a heart attack. After I sweated my way through the immigration line (they really need to think about getting some AC in that hall) and passing through the Kwanza shakedown (you have to open your wallet and show the police you’re not taking any Angolan currency out of the country, which is illegal), I was on my way at last.

I landed in Johannesburg after the 3+ hour flight on a Friday evening in time to have dinner at a Thai restaurant with some friends in the Melville neighborhood, enjoyed a night out, slept in, did some shopping, and got back on the plane the next evening for the flight to Accra. Once there, I was pleasantly surprised to discover my hotel had fast wireless internet and I promptly set about downloading podcasts and episodes of Saturday Night Live to watch back in Angola when the power goes out. I was loving Ghana already.

It's a bay! It's a toilet! It's the Luanda Marginal...

Like many things in Angola, the Baía de Luanda has enormous potential. Unfortunately, it’s currently running for the title of world’s largest toilet.

I’ve been lucky enough to get a six-week house sitting gig at an apartment located on the Marginal, the main thoroughfare in Luanda that happens to border the bay. My duties include walking my friend’s Rhodesian Ridgeback twice a day along the wide Marginal sidewalk. I’m also able to walk along the same sidewalk to work, which has been a welcome respite from Luanda’s traffic. Normally the flat 20-minute walk would be a great way to get to work. It’s winter now afterall, so the temperatures in the morning and evening are comfortable low-mid 60’s and perfect for a stroll.

Despite the potential, my experiences on the Marginal have been less than savory. Not a day goes by where I don’t see someone walk right up to the edge of the Marginal in broad daylight, unzip, and relieve themselves right into the bay. Public urination is a competitive sport here, so that’s nothing all that unusual. I’ve also seen kids crawl down to “go potty” directly into the bay, and then proceed to wipe their bare bottoms by dragging them on the concrete edge of the sidewalk that drops down into the bay afterwards. All in broad daylight.

As if that’s not enough, the city’s sewers dump directly into the bay and anyone walking along the Marginal sidewalk doesn’t have to guess too hard about where the exit points are. The smell has been particularly ripe lately, to the point where I’ve caught myself gasping in disbelief as if I were trapped in an elevator next to someone with a horrible gas problem. The water usually has a slightly glowing greenish hue along with the permanent mess of floating refuse, which on several occasions has included dumped refrigerators and other large appliances. I’ve also witnessed people on at least two occasions walk up the edge and dump garbage bags right into the bay. Rats and cockroaches rule the sidewalk at night, a fact the dog reminds me of when she decides it’s time to give chase to either.

The bold disrespect for what should be a point of civic pride is depressing. Someone pointed out to be earlier in my stay here that “African priorities aren’t always the same as Western priorities.” Perhaps, but one would think that the government would feel a little more responsible for doing something to clean things up. Apparently people just don’t care (at least not the ones dumping their human and household waste in broad daylight).

And yet, it’s hard not to imagine a clean Marginal with parks and water taxis taking passengers to and from the clubs and beaches on the Ilha on the opposite side. It could be charming, and there are redevelopment plans posted on billboards along the sidewalk. Nothing has happened in the year that I’ve been here, and these are the kinds of experiences that make people cynical about the future while they book the first possible flight out of here after their contract duties have been fulfilled. Weak civil service organizations, a totally unfree press, and a lack of political will make it too easy to maintain the status quo. Unfortunately none of these factors seem to be changing anytime soon, so I’ll keep holding my breath on my walk to work…

Tomorrow: Plans for a greener, cleaner Marginal:


Today: Not so clean, not so green:

The Age of Jesus

I turned 34 recently, and for once I was looking forward to turning older. Until this month, whenever someone in Angola would ask my age, the unanimous remark was that I was “the age of Jesus.” This always led to an awkward moment – what do you say when someone has just compared you to someone who was crucified at your exact age? Turning 34 was a relief in that sense – turns out I’m not the savior of mankind either (its own separate relief). On the other hand, my country’s constitution still considers me too young to be president, so I figure I have at least another year to consider myself too young for serious responsibility. After that it’s pretty much downhill until the AARP benefits kick in, so I hope to enjoy it while I can.

I’ve never been one to make a fuss over my birthday – being a summer day I never celebrated it in grade school and my family always seemed to be on vacation when I was a kid. I never got in the habit of having parties, and even a short blog entry seems a bit indulgent. In any event, it was nice surprise when a group of friends invited me out to dinner and drinks this year. The pepper steak at Fortaleza Restaurant was tasty and the house party afterwards festive. Too bad I had to get up for a 6a.m. flight to Soyo the next day. More on that later - for now a big thank you to my Luanda friends for making

It's not a party until you rearrange the refrigerator magnets:


A promising sign for the evening:


Thank you!